


Personal Physician

by sunflowerseedsandscience



Series: Early On [7]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s01e15 Lazarus, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8303546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerseedsandscience/pseuds/sunflowerseedsandscience





	

By the time Scully arrives back at her apartment after getting Mulder settled at his place, with everything he could possibly need overnight within arm's reach, it's unspeakably late. All she wants is to take a long, hot bath and crash into bed. In the morning, she'll need to check on her mother, who's alone at her house for the first time, now that Bill, Charlie, and Melissa have left. And after that, she'll need to drive to Mulder's apartment. His doctor had only agreed to discharge him on the condition that Scully will take over his care at home, so she'll need to bring him food so that he can take more painkillers, as well as check his stitches and change his dressings.

She'll also need to stop at a hardware store. Mulder sent her home with his apartment keys, telling her to have copies made for herself. "Something tells me this won't be the last time something like this happens," he'd said, grinning crookedly at her through a haze of painkillers. "And if you're going to take over as my personal physician, in-home care is going to be much easier if you can let yourself in whenever you need to."

She's already decided to make him a copy of her key while she's at it. For emergencies. He'd had to break down her front door to get to her when Eugene Tooms had broken into her bathroom, and she'd rather not ever have to have that sort of conversation with her landlord ever again. It occurs to her that Ethan might not approve... but it's her name on the lease, not his. It's her decision.

Ethan is sitting in the living room when she gets home. He switches off the TV and stands the moment she enters, crossing the room in two strides and wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry about your father, Dana," he murmurs in her ear, rubbing her back in gentle circles. "Are you all right?" She draws back from him and nods.

"I'm fine," she says. "Just exhausted. I really want to take a bath and go to bed."

"I thought you were coming home two days ago," says Ethan. "You said on the phone that the case was closed. What happened?" Scully sighs and drags her suitcase down the hall to her bedroom, Ethan following along behind her.

"Mulder got shot," she says. Ethan's footsteps cease behind her, and she turns to see him standing in the bedroom doorway, eyes wide with shock.

"Jesus. Is he-"

"He's okay," Scully says, slinging her case onto the bed and unzipping it. "He got hit in the leg. We had to stay a couple of extra days while he was in the hospital. I've just come from getting him settled in at his apartment." She extracts her dirty laundry bag, crosses to the closet, and divides the bag's contents up between her hamper and her dry-cleaning basket. "I'll need to go back over there tomorrow after I go see my mom. I'm probably going to be out most of the day." Ethan frowns.

"Why you?" he asks, and Scully just barely keeps from rolling her eyes. She does _not_ want to fight right now.

"Because the only way Mulder's doctor would agree to let him leave was if I agreed to take over his care at home," she says. "And as restless as he was getting, it would have been cruel and unusual punishment for the nursing staff if I'd just left him there and come back up on my own. Besides, I would've had to fly back down to help him through the flight, anyway, whenever he _did_ end up getting discharged. I was just trying to find the easiest option for everybody, and I really don't appreciate-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy! I get it!" Ethan holds his hands up in surrender. "I promise, I'm not looking for an argument." He crosses the room and takes her hand. 'Why don't you go and get a bath ready, and I'll bring you some wine?" She nods, deflating, and drags herself into the bathroom.

An hour later, she's feeling significantly better. She leaves the bathroom swathed in the blue silk robe Ethan bought her for Christmas, and settles down on her side of the bed. He's reading on his side, and the moment she's gotten comfortable, he puts his book down and turns to her. 

"We need to talk, Dana," he says. There's no animosity in his voice, but she tenses all the same. She knows he's right, though.

"Yeah," she sighs. "We do." They look at one another expectantly, each waiting for the other to start, and out of a strong desire to get this over with, Scully speaks first. "I'm sorry about what happened at the Christmas party," she says. "It was completely unprofessional of us."

"Are you sorry for doing it?" asks Ethan shrewdly. "Or sorry I saw it?" She chances a look at his face, but he doesn't look angry. He's clearly been thinking this through over the past couple of weeks. She decides she owes it to him to be honest about this, for once.

"The second one," she sighs. Ethan's mouth becomes a thin, hard line. "I'm not going to lie to you, Ethan. I'm attracted to him and I know he feels the same about me."

"How do you know?"

"Because he told me." Ethan nods shortly. Scully can sense him holding back his anger, his desire to rage at her warring with the certainty that to do so will drive her further away. He knows her. He knows that he can't tell her to make a choice, that she'll see any ultimatum as an attempt to control her.

"What do you want to do, Dana?" he asks her, his voice as soft as he can manage. 

"I don't know," she says. It's not quite the truth, but it's easier to say than "I'd like to end our relationship as painlessly as possible and fall into a mad, passionate love affair with my slightly crazy partner, only I can't quite get over my fear of letting go completely and allowing him total access to my heart- which, by the way, is something I've never allowed you."

"Can I say what I want?" Ethan asks. She nods. "What _I_ want is to go back to the way things were before all of this, before you met him. Everything was so good then." Scully raises her eyebrows.

"No, it wasn't, Ethan," she says. "You were giving me a hard time about going into the field before I'd even left for my first case. You've made an effort to be more supportive since then, sure, but you've also made it clear that it was costing you. I've left for assignments feeling guilty that I've hurt you just by doing my job, and I can't have that, Ethan. I cannot be distracted by things like that when I'm out in the field, when my safety- and my partner's- hinges on my ability to focus and be present." Ethan has the good grace to look ashamed.

"I've said I was sorry," he protests.

"Yes, you've said it, but I haven't gotten the feeling that you've meant it," Scully says. Ethan does not respond. "What do _you_ want, Ethan?" she asks. "What do you think we should do?"

"I was going to suggest that we take a break, so you can think about whether or not you want me to stay," says Ethan. "But the thing is... you won't be seeing me, but you'll still be seeing _him_ almost every day. He'll have an unfair advantage."

"Ethan, even if you leave Mulder out of it, it's not a given that I'll want to stay," says Scully. "That's what I'm trying to explain."

"I know, Dana," he says. "And what _I'm_ saying is that instead of just disappearing, instead of letting Mulder have his say unopposed, I'm going to stick around and do my best to remind you of the things that are _worth_ saving about you and me."

She just barely manages to keep herself from asking what those things are. She can't quite remember, herself. 

 

\--------------

 

Of all the things Scully could have imagined that might come along and pose a threat to the tenuous peace she and Ethan have built, Jack Willis has certainly not been one of them.

She and Jack have occasionally crossed paths during the three years since their breakup, and it's always been pleasant, cordial, a reflection of the equally cordial way their relationship had ended. There had been no epic blow-out, no massive fight, no ultimatums or slammed doors or even tears, really- just a mutual agreement that their relationship had run its course, that their time together, while enjoyable, had come to an end.

She can't imagine her relationship with Ethan ever ending under similar terms, not now. Even with him fully aware of the possibility that she might leave, she's fairly certain that once she makes that call, things will not end quietly.

"Jack Willis?" he asks, when she tells him, his face incredulous. " _Really_?" She nods. "But it's not even an X-File, is it?"

"No, it's not," she says. "I'm on loan. Jack asked for me specifically." Ethan's expression grows darker.

"Can't you refuse?" he asks. "Turn them down?"

"On what grounds?" she demands. "I can't go to Blevins and say, 'I'm sorry, but my boyfriend isn't comfortable with me working quite so closely with my ex.' My saying that would be confirmation of exactly the same outdated attitudes I'm trying to work against, Ethan- that women can't work at the FBI because they're too emotionally delicate. I am _not_ turning down an assignment on grounds like that."

He lets it go, but it's clear he's not happy about it. 

Yes, Scully is definitely having a very hard time remembering what's supposed to be "good" about them at the moment.

 

\-----------

 

Mulder is frantic, and doing his best not to let it show. The sound of her voice in his ear, saying his name as Willis/not Willis had held the phone out to her... is that going to be the last thing he ever hears her say?

He knows in his gut that Willis is no longer himself. Bruskin agrees with him, though he stops short of believing that Willis' consciousness is currently being inhabited by a technically-dead bank robber. Mulder tells himself it doesn't matter, not really, as long as he accepts that Scully is in danger. Psychotic break or supernatural possession, at this moment, it doesn't make a difference to Mulder what the agents around him think is going on. He just wants Scully back safe.

His cell phone rings and he grabs for it, thinking it might be Willis, but it's an unfamiliar number. He answers it anyway, just in case.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, this is Ethan Minette," says a panicked voice on the other end of the line. Mulder curses inwardly. "There was something on the news about an FBI agent being taken hostage by the wife of that bank robber that Dana shot. Is it her? Does she have Dana?"

"Ethan, wait a second. You need to calm down-"

 _"Is it her, Mulder?!"_ Mulder sighs.

"Yes, Ethan, it's her," he says. "But listen, we've got their location narrowed down, okay? The kidnappers let me talk to her on the phone and she's alive, she's okay, and we're gonna get her back, do you hear me?"

"Where were _you_?" demands Ethan, still hysterical. "You're supposed to be her partner! Why weren't you there watching out for her?"

"I wasn't there because this wasn't my case, Ethan," says Mulder. "Jack Willis asked for Scully, not for me. But I'm here now, and I'm gonna bring her home, okay? She's gonna be fine." He hears Ethan draw a long, shuddering breath. "Listen, why don't you come down to the Hoover building?" he suggests. "I'll let security know you're coming. You can wait in our office. I'll bring her there as soon as we've got her, okay?"

Ethan's words ring in his head long after he's hung up the phone.

_"Where were you? Why weren't you watching out for her?"_

What he told Ethan is the truth, certainly... but it doesn't make Mulder feel any less guilty.

 

\---------------

 

Once they _do_ have her, once he's made certain that she's all right, once she's been released from the radiator and is rubbing the cramps from her red, chafed wrists, getting Scully back to Ethan is the absolute last thing on Mulder's mind. He leads her out of the decrepit apartment building where Lula's and Jack's bodies are being photographed and prepped for transport, down the stairs, and out onto the sidewalk. He pulls her, not towards the waiting ambulance or to the other agents, who haven't yet spotted their exit, but into an alleyway, underneath a rickety wooden staircase winding up the side of the building. It's as far as he can get before taking her in his arms.

She doesn't resist; rather, she melts into him, tucking her head into the hollow of his shoulder and holding him around his waist, under his coat. He can feel her trembling in his grasp... or is that him? He can't tell.

"Are you all right?" he asks, his voice hoarse in her ear. She nods against his chest. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," she says. "Just some chafing from the handcuffs. I'm fine, Mulder." He nods, but he doesn't let her go. She looks up at him... and the sight of her eyes is too much for him. He takes her face in his hands and kisses her. He does his best to be gentle, to be mindful of the cut on her lip, and he worries he's hurting her. But she responds, tightening her hold on his waist and kissing him back. He walks her backwards until he's pressing her against the brick side of the building, his fingers in her hair and his tongue in her mouth, a never-ending litany in his head of _I almost lost you, I almost lost you, I almost lost you._

If he had any remaining doubts left in his mind that he's in love with her, the last of them have all officially fled.

When she finally pulls away, he is suddenly conscious that he has been all but rutting against her, under the stairs in this dark, foul-smelling alleyway with half the FBI's hostage negotiation unit out on the street waiting for them. He'd feel ashamed, if it weren't for the way she's looking at him right now. She reaches up and caresses his face.

"I'm here," she whispers. "I'm all right." For a moment, he can't answer her; he can only nod. "But if we stay under here much longer, people are going to come looking for us, and the rumors are going to get worse than they already are." He nods again, but still, he can't bring himself to let her go. "Mulder." She stretches up to kiss him one more time. "It's all right." She takes one of his hands from where it's tangled in her hair and winds her fingers through his. "Come on." She leads him out from under the staircase. "I'm going to need to give my statement."

"You should get checked out, too," he says, finding his voice at last.

"I'm fine," she insists. "The cut on my lip doesn't need stitches, and I can take care of the chafing on my wrists myself with some antibiotic ointment."

"Scully?" He tugs on her hand, and she stops walking, looking back at him quizzically. "Can you let them check you out? For me?" She looks ready to argue for a moment; then, something in his eyes seems to convince her, and her face softens.

"All right," she says gently. 

They drop hands as they reach the mouth of the alleyway, their masks of professionalism descending once more.


End file.
